The carriage wheels clattered loudly, rolling through the pouring rain. Simon and Lethe sat together outside on the driver’s seat. Simon glanced beside him with a bewildered expression, still struggling to believe his eyes.
A straw hat with jagged edges sticking out as if bought at a cheap market, leather clothes that faintly smelled of shoe polish—it was the typical attire of a carriage driver to anyone’s eyes. But the person wearing it was a beautiful girl with flowing white hair. She even drove the carriage quite well, effortlessly avoiding the irregularly protruding roots and mud puddles.
"Ah. That was an entertaining drive," Lethe said.
Simon looked over. Lethe, having deployed a soundproofing magic circle so they couldn’t be heard from inside the carriage, wore a playful smile.
"I mean, watching you do all sorts of things to look presentable before meeting me, like fixing your hair."
Simon’s face flushed with embarrassment, and she giggled.
He cleared his throat, quickly changing the subject. "What’s with the outfit? And this carriage? What about the elderly couple riding in the back?"
"Ah, regarding them," Lethe said, twirling a lock of pure white hair with her free hand as she explained.
After crossing the border and taking a series of teleportation magic circles, she had arrived at Hove, the territory neighboring Leshill. From Hove, she needed to catch a carriage and head into the mountain valleys of Leshill, but...
"We can’t go to Leshill right now because of the flooding."
Traffic was blocked. No matter how much Lethe offered to pay, the drivers shook their heads. They insisted that crossing the mountain range by carriage in this weather was fundamentally impossible. But as it happened, there were other people trying to get to Leshill besides Lethe—the elderly couple currently riding in the back.
As residents of Leshill, they had come down to Hove to buy necessities, only to end up stranded in the city when the flooding hit their home. Having not brought much travel money, they couldn’t afford to stay any longer at the inn. They were facing the prospect of sleeping on the streets starting tomorrow night, and the night wind was cold, the rain pouring. Upon hearing their situation, Lethe had taken action.
"I simply purchased a carriage."
Simon’s eyes widened. "You bought a carriage? The whole thing?"
"Despite appearances, the position of a Saintess pays quite well. I was concerned about Ms. Anna, and the elderly couple’s situation was unfortunate, so I decided to drive it myself."
She grabbed the brim of her straw hat and twisted her body from side to side. "I also purchased the clothes to get into the spirit of it. Looks acceptable, doesn’t it?"
The driver’s leather outfit clung tightly to her figure. Simon forced himself to avert his eyes, giving a half-hearted nod.
"W-Well. More importantly, are you even allowed to visit the Dark Alliance? I heard Saintesses are incredibly busy even during breaks."
"Hehe’." Lethe’s eyes curved into half-moons. "I ran away from home. Please let me stay at your place, Simon."
Simon stared at her in sheer disbelief.
At the same time in the Holy Federation.
"The Saintess has disappeared!"
"Search everywhere she could possibly hide!"
The paladins of the Holy Federation spread out across the area, combing through the surroundings.
"Have you seen a girl with white hair and golden eyes? She would have been wearing a robe."
"Uh, no, I haven’t."
"We need to search your house."
Thinking she might have used her authority as a Saintess to demand sanctuary, the paladins indiscriminately searched through the residential areas.
’Did someone caught in an Inquisition run away?’
’I have no idea.’
The residents complied with the investigation, their faces frozen in fear. Watching this search from a short distance away was a woman with sea-blue hair, her eyes gently closed.
"Wrap up the search soon and withdraw," she ordered softly.
It was the Saintess of the Deep Sea, Israphel.
A paladin dropped to one knee in a disciplined motion. "B-But if we fail to find Saintess Lethe like this..."
"I have a good guess as to where she is," Israphel replied with a gentle smile.
The paladin immediately snapped his head up. "Please tell us! We will immediately—"
"Rather than cornering her right now, I think it would be better to give the child a little more time. It hasn’t even been a year since she became a Saintess, has it?"
She quietly looked up at the sky.
"Just please return safely, Lethe."
A rainy afternoon. Simon sat in the passenger seat, listening to Lethe’s story.
"As a Saintess, one meets many people and experiences all facets of human nature," Lethe said, flicking the reins. Her voice carried a slight edge of agitation. "The only ones who truly respect the title of Saintess are the commoners. However, the individuals I deal with are mostly high-ranking priests rather than the general public."
Her face contorted in anger. "The way those bastards treat a Saintess can be divided into exactly two categories: a precious, obedient doll, or an outlet for their base desires."
"Base... what?"
"Fuck. There are all sorts of deranged bastards out there. Ugh, it still gives me goosebumps. What is the point of kneeling in front of me? The eyes staring up at me belong to crazy, perverted old men!"
For a moment, Lethe unleashed a string of foul curses. ’That must be rough,’ Simon thought.
She told him there was even a man who explosively released his holy power, claiming that embracing the Saintess—the ’closest daughter’—was the same as embracing the Goddess Deva, and that this was his form of faith. Since how ’faith’—the source of holy power—manifested varied from person to person, things like this happened. The Holy Federation kept it hidden, but it was the cause of quite a few major social issues.
"They are absolute fucking bastards, seriously!" Lethe shouted, kicking the footboard of the carriage with a loud Thud.
Simon smiled bitterly. "But even if they’re Federation bishops, your statuses are different. Are they allowed to treat a demigod-like Saintess that way?"
"That is the most despicable trait of those pigs." She furrowed her brow. "Those cowards cannot even squeak or make eye contact in front of Saintesses with years of experience or great careers, especially Lady Israphel. But they pull that shit in front of me because I am an easy target! ’Oh, really? A Saintess with less than three years of experience can be replaced at any time, is that it?’ They do it even more because they know I cannot act rashly!"
As Lethe stomped her feet, unable to contain her anger, the carriage curtain was suddenly pulled back, and the old man poked his head out.
"Miss, is everything alright?"
The voices were blocked, but it seemed the sound of her stomping could be heard inside. Startled, Lethe quickly stopped what she was doing and shyly bowed her head.
"I apologize for the noise. The road is a bit rough."
Then, she put on an innocent expression as if nothing had happened. The old man went back inside. Lethe sighed, turning the soundproofing magic circle back on.
Simon smiled. "You seem like you’d be good at the Saintess job. That’s surprising."
"You’re dead," she growled, her brow narrowing.
Simon quickly shut his mouth.
"Regardless, it is not as if those things only happened once or twice," Lethe continued. "Even if those old geezers look at me with perverted eyes, they cannot actually touch my body. The stress was definitely piling up, but I decided to let it slide for the sake of peace."
"Right."
"However..." Her voice turned icy. "There was an incident where all that pent-up stress exploded at once."
It was during a routine visit to a regional grand temple, while she was exchanging greetings with the bishops. Exhausted, Lethe had just wanted to get it over with quickly. She offered the back of her hand, and an old bishop knelt at her feet and kissed it. But then...
"Tongue."
Simon felt a chill run down his spine at that single word.
"The back of my hand felt wet. I looked down to see what it was, and that crazy old bastard was smiling creepily with his filthy tongue sticking out."
Lethe shoved the reins toward Simon and jumped to her feet. Startled, Simon grabbed the reins and took over driving the carriage.
"Fuck, in that exact moment, everything that had been building up exploded. I immediately smashed my elbow into the bastard’s philtrum."
She physically re-enacted the motion of striking with her elbow. "Like this. I stomped on the back of his hand with my heel, kicked him hard enough to crush his face, and then grabbed his jaw and forced it up."
She swiftly swiped her index finger from top to bottom. "I pulled out his tongue and cut it off."
"Ah."
Simon could easily picture the ensuing chaos.
"It was hilarious watching him cast holy magic on himself trying to survive. I stomped on his severed tongue and mashed it to pieces so he could not regenerate it, then I escaped the temple. I shook off all the paladins and guards chasing me, ran like hell, and crossed the border."
Lethe shrugged and plopped back down in her seat, snatching the reins back from Simon.
"And that is how I ended up here in Leshill, across the border."
"You really went through a lot."
"So, ta-da. I became a runaway. I have become someone who isn’t welcome in either the Holy Federation or the Dark Alliance."
"Do you plan on going back when the break is over?"
Lethe rested her chin on her hand. "I am not entirely sure myself."
"You did harm a bishop, but it’s a fact that he committed the sin of blasphemy first. Since you’re a Saintess, I doubt you’d be punished."
"I will be punished. Because I am a Saintess, His Holiness the Pope will directly hand down the disciplinary action. What is certain is that this isn’t something I can be forgiven for by reciting a prayer a thousand times like when I was a student."
She tilted her head back. "Honestly, I am exhausted. I want to give up the position of Saintess and everything else, just like Ms. Anna did. Ugh, I hate even thinking about it."
Lethe hadn’t harbored any grand ambition to become a Saintess. It was the dream of almost every girl born in the Holy Federation—which spanned half the continent—and Lethe was simply one of them. She possessed a talent for white magic and was confident in her faith. Once she became the top student at Efnel, she worked even harder toward the goal of becoming a Saintess, and eventually, she truly became one.
But Lethe never knew that the position of a Saintess would be this difficult and painful. People only ever said that Saintesses were noble and great beings; no one told her she would be sexually harassed by bishops.
"Let’s just go home and get some rest for now," Simon said, deciding to save his words for later. "I think it would be best for you to rest in Leshill during the break and calmly think about what to do next."
"Understood." Lethe closed her eyes. "Putting everything else aside, I just really miss Ms. Anna right now."
While they were talking, they arrived at their destination before they knew it: the shelter in the northern mountain range. Simon and Lethe hopped down from the carriage and helped the elderly couple out.
"Father! Mother!"
"Grandma!"
The people at the shelter ran out to meet them. As Simon proudly watched the families reunite, Lethe walked forward and patted the carriage’s cargo bed.
"I figured you might be short on food because of the heavy rain, so I brought some rations. I hope it helps."
"Oh my, thank you so much!"
"W-We’re saved thanks to you!"
The residents hurried over and unloaded the food from the cargo bed. When Simon’s eyes widened in surprise, Lethe winked at him.
"Pretty thoughtful of me, right?"
"Ah, yeah. Thank you."
As Lethe looked around with her hands clasped behind her back, a group of children came running over.
"Miss! Thank you for bringing Grandma back!"
"Thank you!"
"Hello," Lethe smiled warmly, crouching down to pat the children’s heads.
However, since the ground from here on out was too ruined to travel by carriage, they decided to leave the carriage with the territory’s residents for a while and proceed on foot.
"Let’s head up for a bit before we go see Ms. Anna," Lethe suggested.
"Where?"
"The highest point in Leshill." Lethe pointed upward with her fingertips. "I’ll make the rain stop for you."

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